


Lost and Found

by RisingSm0ke



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Mission Fic, the team goes to Australia, this was supposed to be a oneshot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8264950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingSm0ke/pseuds/RisingSm0ke
Summary: Overwatch takes on a mission in Australia and the Junkers aren't too happy to be returning home. The past catches up with them in the most unexpected of ways.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyy!! I've been talking about this for a while and here it is! At least, here's the first chapter. I have two more written that I'll post later, and I'm not sure how im gonna finish this up or when.... So we'll see how this goes.

Neither of them were thrilled to be on this mission if they were honest, something that had somewhat surprised the rest of the team. Throughout the briefing the two Junkers had remained silent, Roadhog leaned against the back wall, stoic as ever, and Junkrat kept his blank gaze on the map, tipping his chair back onto two legs but otherwise staying soundless and unmoving.

“Don't you want to help them?” Mercy had inquired, and though her tone was tentatively light, the question rung loudly in the utter quiet of the room. Everyone was looking at Junkrat, having expected a more enthusiastic reaction, given their new mission's destination. The bomber let his chair drop back onto four legs with a metallic slam, tapping the toe of his heavy boot on the tiled floor twice with anxious energy, before finally allowing his molten eyes to shift from the holographic image of Australia to his teammates seated around him.

“Some people just can't be helped,” He said, voice low and lacking it's usual lively inflections, a verbal mirroring of his expression which had steadily twisted into something ruminative and dark as the meeting progressed. With that he stood and limped for the door, pulling away gently when Hana reached out to lay a hand on his arm as he passed, his unspoken words reading clearly with the motion- _“I need space.”_ Roadhog followed without a word, leaving the room hanging in an even more awkward silence than before.

The ride to the Outback settlement they were visiting was only marginally better than the time spent preparing before the mission. Satya had managed to coax Junkrat into a brainstorming session over one of her new schematics after a solid hour of brooding on the Junker's part, and Hana had been given silent permission to lean against Roadhog's side nearby while she played on her 3DS.

“Hey Mako?” Hana whispered, barely heard over the dull roar of the ORCA's engines and the inevitable bickering that had sprung up between Junkrat and Symmetra, pausing her game but keeping her gaze on the device in her hands. She felt Roadhog's muscles move against her back as he turned to look at her, grunting in acknowledgment. “Are you okay?” She asked, sitting up so she too could turn and look at her companion. Roadhog stared at her for a long time, and Hana found it increasingly difficult to maintain eye contact with his mask. Just before she was about to withdraw her question however, the Junker rumbled a reply.

“Just a lot of bad memories,” He said, looking back to Junkrat who by now had completely abandoned the idea of work and was just trying to get Satya to laugh with minimal success. Hana hummed in thought, also watching the pair interact- it was nice to see them getting along, which was a rather recent development in their rocky relationship.

“Maybe you can make new ones?” She suggested without much conviction, knowing the idea was a stretch when it came to something so damaging to both the Junkers as their ruined homeland. Roadhog grunted again and Hana sensed the end of the conversation with a stab of guilty disappointment. She sighed and gave Roadhog's arm a small pat in an attempt of comfort before halfheartedly returning to her game.

The closer they got to their destination, the more fidgety Junkrat became, and soon even the prospect of making Satya laugh wasn't enough to hold his attention. Jack had spoken to both him and Roadhog for a last minute rundown of how they should go about interacting with the locals, the only answers he received were things along the lines of _“Let us handle it”_ and _“Don't get caught alone.”_

Landing was a tense time for everyone, as of that moment, the only people who had been to Australia after the Crisis and knew exactly what to expect were the Junkers. Only Jack, Hana, Satya, Junkrat, and Roadhog were assigned to exit the ship for this mission, though Tracer, Winston and Angela also came along as potential backup and to guard the ship. Even with their split tasks, the whole team was put on edge when faced with Junkrat and Roadhog's grim demeanor upon landing.

For the better part of a few months, there had been reports of a bandit organization terrorizing the group of settlements in the area. At first, this information has spread through word of mouth, as most of the ramshackle towns had no means of long distance communication, eventually though someone had managed to broadcast a distress signal. When no one else responded, Overwatch had decided to investigate.

“Home sweet home,” Junkrat muttered dryly as the bay door lowered to settle in the sand, revealing the devastated wasteland that was now the Australian Outback and letting in a choking blast of hot air. Junkrat and Roadhog seemed unaffected, but the rest of the team couldn't resist the urge to cough or gag as heat filled their lungs and the sour smell of acidic dirt wormed its way into their nostrils.

“Right,” Junkrat started, standing up straight and clapping his hands together once before gesturing with a sardonic smile to the dark mass of thrown-together buildings in the distance, “Welcome to 'Stralia mates.” And with that he and Roadhog were lopping off into the desert, leaving their teammates to scramble after them.

The buzz of insects mingled with the constant drone of human-generated noise to create a bustling atmosphere that clogged the over populated streets when they arrived at the ramshackle town, entering through the wide gates and weaving between the many people going about their daily routine. They were not greeted with a friendly reception, though that didn't really surprise anyone, many locals eyed them like wary coyotes, most were lean and malnourished, with weapons strapped in blatant threats around waists, others ignored them entirely.

Hushed conversations followed in the Overwatch agents' wake as Jack attempted to navigate the twisting streets, all of which were unlabeled and carried the same look as the last. A few locals tailed their group for a short time, lurking in the stark shadows clinging to dilapidated buildings, hiding from the evening sun, before they thought better of their actions when faced with a growling Roadhog. The Overwatch team followed their commander for fifteen minutes before Junkrat gave an agitated sigh, swiping the digital map 76 held in one gloved hand and examining it with creased eyebrows.

“Where do ya wanna go?” He asked, leveling the soldier with a withering look of impatience as he smacked at yet another fly that landed on his neck to bite at his exposed skin. Jack growled under his breath at the Junker's lack of manners but complied none the less, pointing to a spot on the map.

“Our contact sent us this location, but the map doesn't look anything like the layout here.” Jack explained in frustration, running a hand through his hair, causing it to spike up with sweat that had accumulated from their relatively short time spent in the intense heat of the sun.

“Look soldier boy,” Junkrat cackled, handing the map back to Jack with a snicker, “Tha's a map of wot the place woulda looked like before the Crisis,” He explained, “S'not gonna look like that little picture there because everything's been blown to shit, yeah? These settlements are built around ruins, so ya gotta pick out the landmarks and use those.” The Junker paused to look around thoughtfully, his eye catching something that prompted a sharp smile to cut across his face, “Or, ya can just ask for directions,” He finished with a manic giggle, making a beeline for a particular building.

Dread settled over the team at the sound, nothing good ever followed one of Junkrat's manic giggles and they all knew it. Of course, Roadhog was the first to follow after Junkrat, though he paused to cast a low warning over his shoulder.

“Stay close.”

Hana was never more acutely aware of how much the non-Junker members of Overwatch stood out until the group entered into what appeared to be a bar after Junkrat. One glance at Symmetra told Hana that the other woman felt the same, despite her relatively blank expression, Hana could see the way Satya's shoulders tensed and her lips pressed into a sharp line with her discomfort. While the eyes of the patrons glanced over the three outsiders with vicious interest, in the end it was Junkrat and Roadhog that they focused on. The two Junkers made no effort to move around anyone in their way, forcing the locals to take slow steps out of their path with wary respect, though anger and annoyance were clear on most of the dirty faces in the building.

Junkrat didn't seem to notice, or at the very least pretended not to, as he strolled up to the counter, his amber gaze roved over the now deathly silent crowd before locking onto the barkeep- a bald man garbed in a threadbare shirt hidden under a thick apron- smiling with a faux friendliness.

“G'day,” he greeted slowly, his tone daring a challenge and grin so wide one of his gold teeth shone dully in the limited light. The man behind the counter looked unimpressed, though the way his gaze kept flicking to Roadhog standing just behind Junkrat was telling enough of his nervousness. “Thought you could help me with a bit of directions,” Junkrat continued without allowing room for the man to answer, his fingers fiddling with a cherry-bomb he casually pulled out of one pocket, letting the small explosive roll around his fingers as he spoke.

“We're lookin' fer a bloke by the name of...” He trailed off, eyebrows scrunched and lips twisted in thought, “Oi wot was 'is name again,” Junkrat asked, snapping his fingers as if that would help him remember before turning to look at Jack for help.

“The Crow Keeper,” Jack supplied cautiously, the red glow of his visor bright in the dim lighting of the rickety building.

“Yeah!” Junkrat hollered, baring his teeth even further, “The Crow Keeper, nice little title innit? Know a guy by that name?” He asked, focusing his attention back on the barkeep and cocking his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. The man frowned.

“Depends on what yer here fer,” He said, fingers tapping quietly against the counter, “Don't get many Junkers 'round here, and I can't say they ever bring any good.” Junkrat threw his head back in a fully body howl of laughter, the sudden harshness of the hyena-like cackles startling the man in front of him.

“I don't blame ya there mate,” Junkrat said, theatrically wiping a tear from his eye with his flesh hand, “But we ain't technically Junkers no more, an' we were called here. So you gonna tell us,” All traces of humor vanished from his expression, and in the next moment there was a grenade launcher leveled calmly at the man's chest, “Or are ya gonna tell us? Because we ain't got all day now.”

“Junkrat is that really necessary?” Satya hissed, pushing forward to clamp her hand over the wrist of Junkrat's prosthetic, the metal of their fake arms making a faint grinding sound under the pressure of her hold. Junkrat didn't waver an inch despite Satya's forceful tugging, his fiery gazed locked on the eyes of the man in front of him. The two were held in some kind of stand off until the barkeep cracked a smile, his mustache quirking with the expression. Junkrat followed the break in the man's composure, his shoulders jumping in a suppressed giggle, finally letting Satya pull his arm down so his weapon was no longer aiming at anyone.

“Gotta say kid, ya may look like a Junker, but ya don't act like one,” The barkeep said, leaning his elbows against the rough wood between them. The motion seemed to release the tension that had built up in the room, the bar's occupants slowly going back to their own conversations and turning their backs on the two Junkers.

“He pointed a grenade launcher at you!” Hana stage whispered, not understanding how someone could be so relaxed when threatened in such a way. The man laughed, a low and hearty sound.

“Aye, but not even the Junkers are batshit enough to threaten' a bloke three feet away with a grenade.” He answered, giving Hana an eye-crinkling smile.

“Really?” Satya muttered under her breath, crossing her arms and turning her head away from the Junker beside her, “Could have fooled me.”

“Besides,” The man continued with a shrug, “Junkers shoot first and demand answers later. No asking. Crow lives up in the ol' water tower, can't miss it one'a the tallest buildin's in town.”

 

\-------------------------------

 

The Crow Keeper turned out to be a middle aged man who was even more fidgety and jumpy than Junkrat, living up in the water tower surrounded by Australian crows. Their caws echoed loudly inside the metal junk-cluttered structure as the birds flew in and out of holes rust and acid rain had created in the aging dome ceiling. The man himself always had at least one crow perched on him at all times, some brought him little trinkets to which he would cut off whoever was speaking (even himself) to say thank you and give the corvid a scratch under the beak.

Junkrat took a single step into the enclosed space and, met with the piercing clamor generated by the crows as well as the voices of his friends, brought a hand to his ear to turn off his hearing aids with a small click. In an instant the world took on a softer muteness, sounds weren't as sharp and it was harder to tell where they came from. He was nearly completely deaf in his right ear, with his left being only marginally better. Turning his head in the direction of his team did little to help, their words audible, but mostly indistinguishable. He could tell Roadhog was glaring at him from behind his mask as the two hung back against the rounded wall, content to let Jack take the reins for this portion of the mission, but he ignored his bodyguard's irritation in favor of focusing on Symmetra's.

Waving his hands obnoxiously and whispering “oi” a little louder than he thought he was with his now muted hearing, Junkrat attempted to gain Symmetra's attention. When the clearly disgruntled woman finally glanced in his direction, distracted from their commander's conversation by Junkrat's flailing, he grinned and started signing with rapid, jittery movements in his eagerness.

_“What are they saying?”_

Her face scrunched in anger, the bridge of her nose crinkling and her strong brows meeting to form an expression of agitated disbelief as she lifted her hands to sign back with equally swift, if not more graceful gestures.

“ _Turn your hearing aids back on!”_

Junkrat snorted, smirking with raised brows before gesturing around the room as if to say _“yeah right.”_ Symmetra sighed, and though Junkrat couldn't hear it, he could see every ounce of impatience the single breath was meant to convey. Despite her frustrations however, Satya set to work translating the conversation happening in front of her.

The Crow Keeper had been the one to finally broadcast the call for help, being one of the only people in the area that had the technical know-how and parts to build what he needed to get the signal out, he explained with a gesture to the heaps of scrap, wire, and half finished projects that littered his home. He was also one of the lucky few that was in a position of relative safety from the raiders, this particular settlement was on the outskirt of the raiders' home terf and The Crow Keeper was deep (and high) enough into the buildings that a pillaging probably wouldn't reach him.

Rummaging around in his many belongings he had pulled out a crudely drawn, but fairly accurate map of the area, circling the width of the raiders' stomping grounds and giving an approximate location as to their base of operations. The location, he said, was guessed through communication with other towns and their supply runs into the wastes, which doubled as scouting missions as of late due to the danger Australia's main cities refused to acknowledge.

They left with the map in hand, words of well-wishing echoing after them along with the cawing of crows, adding an extra layer to the ominous atmosphere as the group started their trek back to the ship in the rapidly cooling late-evening air. Sunlight stubbornly clung to the horizon, molten and lighting the sky in a final farewell before darkness fully fell. There were no street lights to guide them down the mostly empty dirt roads, and more than once Hana was startled by a sudden noise behind her only to find nothing there, prompting her to slide closer to Roadhog- who gave a quiet wheezing laugh at her nervousness but said nothing in objection.

The handful of people still caught outside bustled through the streets, studiously ignoring the outsiders in their midst, seemingly unwilling to linger outdoors without the sun as they hurried to their homes. Few lights shone through the cracks of boarded up windows, giving the town a haunting air of abandonment despite the knowledge that a person could be found in just about every crevice or hole if one looked hard enough.

Darkness had fully descended by the time they reached the ORCA, bringing with it a biting chill and inky blackness, moonlight painting the sand dunes blue. The team slept fitfully in the small community rooms, cots lined the walls of the cramped space and while it wasn't ideal, it served its purpose well enough.

Satya found herself dragged from the tentative sleep she had managed to fall into by the hushed murmuring of Junkrat as he spoke to Roadhog a few bunks over. She listened unwillingly as he spoke, feeling as though she was eavesdropping on something she ought not to hear.

“S'fine, just the nightmares.” There was a pause where Roadhog spoke, though the low gravel of his voice was too quiet and muffled for her to distinguish any meaning. “Yeah, the same ones. Brought the phantom pains with em,” Junkrat sighed, voice uncharacteristically muted and dull, “Too much nasty here yanno? Jus' bringin' back all the same old shit.”

At this, Satya dared to peek over at the two, feeling a twinge of surprise at finding Junkrat's top bunk to be empty. He had climbed down to join Roadhog on the bottom bed, she observed, wedged into the limited space between Roadhog's side and one of his arms. They two most certainly didn't fit on the small bed, but they seemed to make it work, and she watched Junkrat examine the fingers of his prosthetic with a sadness she'd never seen on his face before, left hand kneading at the part of his arm where skin met metal.

Satya was startled to notice a swell of jealousy rising in her chest at their closeness. She had never found a person with whom she was so comfortable with, and a bitterness settled in her mind before she pushed it away with no small amount of guilt. They had been through much more than any of the team knew, she realized, settling back fully into her bed quietly. The painted fingertips of her right hand ghosting over her own hard light prosthetic as she lingered on that train of thought, taking her focus away from the hushed conversation across the room.

The Junkers drifted into silence, content to combat the inevitable nightmares sleep would bring with each others company as protection, and Satya took the chance to try convincing her racing thoughts into peaceful unconsciousness once more. The ragged, but rhythmically constant, sound of Roadhog's labored breathing and the occasional sleepy mumble from Hana in the cot beside her setting a surprisingly soothing white noise to fall asleep to.

 


End file.
